Who Am I

Kale

Kale POV: "How long, can I live with this mentalityyyyyyyyyyyy".

J. Cole's scratchy voice sung in my ear as I sat down at the table stressing doing the thing I hated most. School work.

My whole life I've been a "star student" A Honor Roll  and a few B's here and there. My GPA was sky high and my life seemed to be laid out for me but yet, I felt incomplete. What was missing I could never figure it out unless I was sitting down in deep thought and bawling my eyes out from time to time just like any other young adult who was uncertain of what would really become of their life.

I tried to live my life day to day but that never really seemed to work because my mind moves so much faster than everything else. All I wanted was to be fashionable and not judged but in today's society we all know that wasn't possible.

My mom walked in the kitchen and rubbed my back.

"Hey baby how are you?"

"I'm fine love." I responded I paused my music thinking we were about to have a short conversation but she just went on with carrying out her regular duties with her job. She's been really busy since she got this promotion. We haven't been as close as we were before partially because I'm never home now I'm always on the go.

      Yesterday I took a visit to my old apartment on the north side of town, the place that helped raise me and taught me so many lessons. The place I used to call home. Griffin Heights Apartments Building F Apt 223. It looked just as I remembered it. Beaten down, torn up, dirty.

    "Damn look I far we've come" I thought to myself as I sat there at the table. I picked up my belongings and put them away. Finishing home work was out of the question. It was Friday and I didn't even want to be home. I had the mentality of a lowlife I hated school but I was good at it. I loved money but hated working. I loved teaching but at the same time I wanted to dodge a suit and tie at all costs.

   Dressing professionally all the time wasn't for me. I needed a job where I could have a few tattoos and not be judge negatively and stereotyped. A place where my hair should be long and curly and messy not where I had to have it cut just to fit in with a certain scope of people. But still I was a mix of the two egos clean cut and street fashion. I sat there at the table asking the question I've always asked myself. Who am I?

     Well.... Let me tell you.